Deals and Dances
by victimsoflove
Summary: UPDATED 2ND CHAPTER In progress Draco Malfoy needs Charms Tuition. Hermione Granger needs a date to the Dance. As far as they're concerned, this is a deal that neither party can back out on.
1. Pact of a Prat

(A/N: This DH fic was written by me, together with Linnn, so please do forgive us if it isn't that good, since it's our first proper one. Anyway, all constructive reviews are welcome, and enjoy it, (if possible).)

To say that Hermione Granger's life is recherché would somewhat be an understatement.

She has played a dire part in destroying Voldermort, she has straightened her hair after seven long years of provocation, _and_ she has finally been appointed Head Girl.

So how exactly did this intelligent and perfect Head Girl land herself in such a horrid and messy situation?

First off, her first love - Ronald Weasley - whom she had thought her relationship with was going somewhere, had dumped her for none other than his slutty 6th year fling, Lavender Brown. To add to her misery, an end-of-year Ball was coming up after her examinations and Hermione Granger didn't want to be the one crying her eyes out with Moaning Myrtle while everyone else was dancing the night away.

And last of all, there was a certain blond haired Slytherin whom she did not want to deal with, standing right in front of her, obstructing her way to her Head Girl's Room "What do you want?"

"Manners, Granger."

"I'm afraid I am unable to offer you any of that."

"You really _are _thick, aren't you?"

"It was cynically disdainful remark. What do you want?"

Draco Malfoy paused for a stretch, and then looked up. "I want, to be sitting in my bed, reading a good book, and drinking on a glass of Firewhisky. I need, however, to pass my coming Charms exam, and as much as it is displeasure to you, I'm sure, I need a tutor and you're the only one that can help me."

Malfoy seemed to enjoy the effect his words were having on Hermione, whose chocolate eyes widened in alarm for a tick, then resumed their original skeptical position.

"I'm flattered. But, you're wasting your time."

Hermione glided past him and made her way to her room and made to close the door. Those years of Quidditch had come in handy, with his fast Seeker reflexes; Malfoy held the door ajar with his strong arms effortlessly while a petite brunette was left pushing her entire weight against the door. "Granger, just stop being a stubborn bitch and listen out, I'll be-"

"And you'd still think I'd help you out after you've called me a bitch? You're obviously mistaken." Hermione shouted out, struggling to close the door. _Damn he's strong_she thought. "Stop being childish. You should know that if you helped a Malfoy, you'd get rewarded." " Yeah, a coffin six feet under."" You shouldn't be so quick to doubt, As far as I'm concerned, _somebody_ needs a date for the upcoming ball. " Malfoy gave her his well-known smirk. "Excuse me? And why in the name of Merlin would _I_ want _you_ to be my date?" Hermione screamed, outraged, as she swung open the door.

"Because if I'm not mistaken, Weasel King has dumped you for Lavender Brown." Malfoy's smirk widened, just as Hermione felt a twinge of annoyance.

"So what if he has? I don't remember asking you to be my partner." Hermione eyes flashed dangerously.

Completely undeterred by this statement, Malfoy leaned against the door frame. "You didn't. But I know you would because nobody can resist the Malfoy charm and you should be glad I haven't gone to McGonagall yet."

"Malfoy charm, now, is it?" Hermione snorted in disbelief. "Oh you know, the famous blonde hair that makes every girl melt and _the_ smirk that everyone falters at, not to mention the-" "Stop, please, before I throw up. Why don't you just go find McGonagall! And leave me alone!" "Because having a Malfoy on your arm at a ball would increase even your ever-so-decreasing popularity."

"You're just afraid that if you do, you'd end up having Charms tuition with someone much worse," Hermione retorted confidently.Malfoy let out a snort of derisive laughter. "No one could be worse than you, Granger."

"Not even Ginny or Luna?" Hermione challenged Malfoy with a sneer of her own.

Malfoy's smirk fell back into place. "Weasley, undeniably, has looks ten times better than you do, and is probably more experienced. Maybe I could see what she knows."

"Don't you… don't you dare – "

"And Lovegood's not particularly unpleasant either; I could get her to open up in more ways than one, if you catch my drift." Malfoy continued to drawl.

"Malfoy, if you _dare_, if you _ever_ touch my friends, I'll - "

"Forget the threat and let's get on with it. Will you do it, or not?" Malfoy's silver-grey eyes stared into Hermione's honey-brown ones, his expression unreadable.

Hermione envisioned the look on Ron's face at the ball if she went with Malfoy, how Ron would be livid with anger that he had not gotten to Hermione earlier; it would be exactly the same as the Yule Ball during the Triwizard Tournament.

Ron would be overcome in jealousy, as Hermione would be dancing gracefully with Malfoy –

Before she allowed her thoughts to stray any further, Hermione looked up at Malfoy with a shrewd sort of grimace. "There you go, Malfoy. I'm afraid that you've gotten yourself a deal."

(A/N: How was it? Like I said earlier, all constructive reviews are very much welcomed!)


	2. The Art Of Getting Along

**(A/N: Here's the next chapter – sorry for deleting the previous ones, it had to be as close to perfect as possible so hope you'd enjoy it!)**

"May I have this dance Hermione?"

"Well certainly, Draco," Hermione said as she placed her small hands onto Draco Malfoy's inviting palms. All movement in the ballroom froze and Hermione Granger could feel everyone's eyes on her as Draco led her to the middle of the dance floor.

Her heart started beating faster and faster, underneath everyone's gaze she could feel her cheek reddening with embarrassment.

"Relax, it's just me," Draco whispered into her ears as he pulled her closer, arms around her waist. With a deep breath, Hermione placed her hands on Draco's strong shoulders as they positioned themselves and let the music take control of their every move, their every step and every glance.

Draco certainly knew what he was doing as he twirled Hermione around gracefully and confidently.

At the end of the dance, Hermione could feel Draco's gaze on her and the chemistry between grew; her spine tingled as she felt his face leaning in nearer and nearer, his nose grazing hers, before she knew it….

"Wake up Granger!"

Hermione Granger's eyes shot open upon this rather rude wake up call and the realization of the must absurd dream she had of the blonde boy who was currently standing next to her bed, poking her stomach trying to get her to get up.

"I'm up! I'm up! What in Merlin's name is your problem?!" she shouted while resting on her elbow, her eyes adjusting to the sudden bright light.

"I don't believe I have a problem, Granger," Draco said sardonically. "It's just that there's a certain annoying Mu – uggle born sleeping as though there's no tomorrow, with a bush for hair-"

At this, Hermione's hand flew to her hair, which has a tendency of refusing to cooperate in the morning after a night of thrashing in bed.

Malfoy smirked,  
"It's really not that bad, and it COULD pass off sex hair. But the idea of you doing someone is just rather distur-"

"Oh no, Malfoy. DON'T you even THINK about going there!"

"Oh, little pure Hermione too innocent?" Malfoy said with a fake pout.

"NO! You stupid, insolent, prat… DID YOU JUST POUT?!"

Hermione exclaimed, barely containing her surprise at seeing her worst enemy who has a fixed mindset that he is God's gift to woman, POUTING.

"NO! Your eyes obviously need to get checked. Just get up, we've got these stupid essay on charms due and I had no idea what the hell Flitwick was blabbing about during lesson and I've got Quidditch practice in 45 minutes." Malfoy complained, quickly changing the topic.  
"Oh, so now your problems become mine, does it?" Hermione said, flaring up.  
"If I'm not mistaken, it was you who said that I've gotten myself a deal," Draco countered coldly.

Staring at him incredulously, Hermione stood up. "_If I'm not mistaken_," she said in a high voice, mimicking his words, "I'm the one that's doing you -" she jabbed her finger on his chest, 

"A favour," Draco interrupted. Well _if I'm not mistaken_, you only agreed to this favour so that you wouldn't be weeping your eyes out on the night of the ball because Ickle Ronniekins left you for Lavender Brown, and I can see why. Now just get your filthy hand of my chest." Draco said coolly.

Hermione's arm dropped to her side as though it weighed 1000 pounds. Her heart suddenly ached like it did during the countless nights she spent crying over her first love.

She could feel tears brimming in her eyes as her vision started to blur. But she will keep whatever dignity she has left and she will never ever cry in front of Malfoy. For she promised herself, that she would never let anyone see her vulnerable, especially if that person would be your worst enemy.

"I will tutor you when I feel up to it," her voice shaky. But before she could finish her sentence which consisted of, "go jump of a bridge" and "son of a bitch", those dreaded tears started to fall.  
"If you'd excuse me," Hermione mumbled to the floor and ran to the bathroom as fast as she could.

Leaving a tall blonde bewildered as well as shocked at the series of events that unfolded right before his eyes. Did he just make Hermione Granger CRY? Sure he insults her a lot but she'd always come back with some smart ass retort to throw back at him. Hell, she'd rather PUNCH HIM IN HIS FACE then cry in front of him. So why did she just break down right in front of him?

Sure, he has made tons of people cry, it was exactly that which raised his popularity in Slytherin. It meant nothing to him, so what if they cried? Its nothing but salt water flowing down someone's face. But, why is it that his heart feels so heavy all of a sudden?

Was it because of **WHO**he made cry? But that can't be possible, she's nothing more than a mere muggle born that he was forced to share a common room with, that managed to beat him in every subject there was, that was extremely witty and sassy, who doesn't let anyone mess with her.

Who is the most-?   
Wait a minute. Did he just think all those stuff about GRANGER of all people? That can't be possible. She's not worthy of those descriptions.

She's a muggle born for God's sake, a status far lower than a Pure blood. He'd better shake this soon and fast before his mind wandered to places it should never go to. 

Just then, the portrait hole swung open, revealing none other than Blaise Zabini himself. Draco's eyebrow in surprised. "What in the world are you doing here Zabini?"

"Good that I have a knack for guessing passwords, because our captain dearest has seem to have forgetten that there's quidditch practice. I know you're depressed at having to share a same common room with that filthy mudblood but you need to get your act together and go for practice!"

Draco's eyes flashed dangerously for a second at the mention of the word mudblood. SHE didn't deserve that degrading title. But he didn't make a fuss about it, with Zabini and his big mouth, you'd never know what would happen if he did.

"You pussies had to wait like 10 minutes for me and you're complaining. Useless. For your information, a Malfoy is never late, and I'm worth the wait." Draco said while grabbing his Quidditch robes and shrugging them on.

"Of course, after you." Blaise said with fake sincerity and bowed as low as he could while he held the door for the Slytherin God himself.

"Arse," Draco retorted as he strutted through the hole, not faltering one bit, with Blaise following behind, every thought of Hermione and her breakdown washed away from his mind. 

Hermione sank down to the bathroom floor, leaning against the locked door, her face buried in her knees. Her sobs kept her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

She found herself gasping for every breath as the sobs took over her. Oh, how everyone would be surprised to see their stubborn and strong-headed head girl weeping away over some lanky redhead.

But they would never understand how hurt and rejected she felt. Sure, she'd put up a strong front, be all kick-ass-girl-power like, how she didn't need a man and that losing Ronald Weasley was his loss, but never hers. But inside, seeing Ron with Lavender was slowly eating her up inside.

Why would he have chosen her of all people? Sure she was pretty decent looking compared to Hermione, but that girl was the best example you could find for, Dumb Blonde, even if she's not blond. She had the most annoying giggle - that held no match for nails against a chalkboard.

Why? Was what Hermione would always ask herself. Was she not too good a girlfriend? Was she being too bossy on Ron? What did she do wrong?

Everyone knew that Hermione and Ron were the perfect couple and that they were great for each other, Hermione herself began to believe it herself.

And she knew, without everyone talking that she was the one that Ron should have chosen and she knew that Ron had make the biggest mistake of his life. So, everyone morning at breakfast, she'd always wish for Ron to run up to her and admit his foolishness for choosing her over the whore and they'd be the perfect couple everyone thought were.

But she had her hopes up only to see them get taken down every morning at the sight of Ron snogging Lavender's face off or Ron's arms around _her_ waist, walking in like a love struck couple and all Hermione could do was just sit and smile, pretending that she was actually HAPPY for him.

And that was what slowly tore her up bit by bit, and today she finally couldn't take it and broke down, right in front of her favourite enemy.

At this, Hermione sank her face deeper to her knees as she finally realized the situation at hand. The humiliation and embarrassment he would cost her. The cruel mockery and the snickers behind her back.

How the strong-headed Head Girl fell head over heels only to get her heart broken, bad. Looks like she won't be leaving this bathroom, her sanctuary, anytime soon. At least until Malfoy leaves the common room.

She stared at the crackling fire spewing out splinters of wood, quill in her hand and parchment under her arm, waiting for Draco to return for Charms tuition. Desperately trying to get a certain Ronald Weasley out of her mind, she started humming the tune of 'A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love'.

When Draco stepped into the common room, hair wet from his shower after practice and his masculine smell stronger than ever. Hermione pretended not to care, even though the smell of him freshly out of a shower smelled so good. She continued humming the song, shaking those thoughts from her mind. Draco paused and listened to the melody.  
"_What a beautiful song, Hermione_", Hermione fantasized Malfoy showering her with compliments. Much to her surprise, Draco covered his ears and threw his head back groaning.

"Not that Celestina Warbeck, I've been listening to it all Christmas because of Mother." Hermione merely looked up at him. "Well, I think she's very talented." Raising an eyebrow, Draco spoke to her very slowly as if explaining something to a retarded child. "No, she is not. Do you have problems with your ears, Granger?" Hermione glared at him. "Charms tuition, right now," she ordered.

Smirking, Draco turned his back on her. "I don't think so, Granger. I want Charms tuition when I want it." Standing up abruptly, Hermione kicked a chair. "So you always get what you want, don't you, Malfoy? You're still an insufferable son of a bitch, I thought – "

Hermione's screaming was cut off by Draco's dangerously soft voice. "Don't you _dare_ insult my mother that way, mudblood." Undeterred, Hermione kicked another chair aside. "I'll insult your mother any way I like, if you're not going to bother whether you insult me or not.

"I thought you were different, but I guess I was wrong!" Striding off at a quick pace, Hermione slammed the door of her dorm shut behind her.  
She knew her exit was dramatic, but it didn't matter. Not anymore. She wasn't going to cry – she could see no reason to.

Malfoy had always called her 'mudblood', but why did it hurt so much this time? Abandoning any thoughts about the conceited idiot, she went to bed, trying hard to forget about everything.

"She thought I was different?" Draco mumbled to himself, as he lay on his bed, replaying the scene over and over again in his mind. Was I actually getting her attention? Did she have a new impression of me? What does "different" mean exactly? So many questions and Draco Malfoy needs an answer.

"She does have a nice voice," He muttered to himself, before his eyes closed for a night's sleep. 

**(A/N: Please review! I hope it was OK.)**


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